Missed Phone Calls
by PennyStarling17
Summary: Sam's at Stanford and he can't help but feel that it was all one huge mistake.


Consider yourselves warned, this is not a happy story and it does include suicide.

* * *

Stanford was big. It was huge and there were people everywhere and Sam Winchester was drowning.

He was smart, but the classes moved too fast. He was friendly, but the other students weren't interested in making friends with him.

He missed his family.

Sam could remember with vivid detail how his family reacted to the news that he was leaving to attend Stanford. His dad's fury that raged against the calm facade Sam had carefully crafted and held close to, trying to stand his ground. His brother's silent indifference, too shocked to speak and unwilling to try and put a halt to their father's hateful words.

Dean's silence hurt so much worse than the things John spat at him.

And then the ringing ultimation: "You walk out that door, don't you ever come back!"

Sam had frozen and fought through the cloying pain that suddenly surrounded him.

He had offered to come back and hunt during breaks and holidays, but from the fury on John Winchester's face, from the words still ringing in his ears, it was obvious that part time was not enough.

So he straightened, grabbed his duffel, and walked out the door.

(He made it nearly two hundred miles before he broke down in tears.)

That had been three months ago and now here he was, a million miles away from everything he had ever known and fighting through a tidal wave of grief.

There was no dad to fight with and ruffle his hair when he came back from a hunt. No Dean to tease him or poke him awake to get up for school. No check-in phone calls or late night pizzas.

There was only Sam on his own in this alien world he had fought so hard to get to.

Only now did he know how bittersweet victory was.

He made it four months before he picked up his phone and called Dean. The call went straight to voicemail, so he hung up and tried their dad.

Straight to voicemail. Dammit.

Sam tried a few more times, with the same result, before turning off his phone and trying to tell himself that he didn't care.

It continued that way for the next few weeks, with Dean and John ignoring the calls and Sam never leaving a message, too afraid of the response he would get.

He wanted to throw himself at them and beg their forgiveness, plead until they let him come home, until he wasn't alone anymore.

He didn't want to be alone anymore.

* * *

It was exactly six months after Sam left for Stanford.

Six months of what should have been a sea of normality and happiness for Sam.

Six months of unbearable loneliness and wishing he could take back the decision to leave home.

It seemed like six months was always a milestone for him.

* * *

"You have one new message. First unheard message...

Hey dad. It's- it's Sam and I know that you're probably about to hang up, but could you just-just hear me out... please?

Ok, um... Jeez, I thought this'd be easier. I don't know, I guess I'll get to the point.

I'm sorry I'm such a screw up. I'm sorry I couldn't be what you wanted me to be. I'm sorry I tore apart our family, dad.

Jesus- I'm sorry, ok dad. I'm sorry I thought Stanford was going to solve all my problems and I'm sorry I fought with you all the time and-

I'm sorry, dad.

*click*

End of messages. To era-"

Deep breath, a dialed number.

"This is Sam, leave a message."

"Sam, I heard your message. Is everything ok? You don't sound like yourself. Just... call me back, Sam."

* * *

"You have one new message. First unheard message...

Hey, uh, Dean. It's... it's Sam and I know that you're probably thinking about hanging up and deleting this, but just -a sigh- just give me a minute and I swear I won't bother you again.

Ok, here it goes.

I'm sorry, Dean. I'm sorry I left and tore apart our family. I'm sorry I left you alone to deal with dad. I'm sorry for all the years you had to deal with me.

I'm sorry, Dean. I-I'm just...sorry.

*click*

End of messages. To erase-"

A quickly dialled number.

"This is Sam, leave a message."

"Hey, Sammy. I, uh, I got your message. And I gotta ask man, is everything alright? Cause, you know me and my rules about chick flick moments, and, dude, that message was a huge one. So... call me back, ok?"

* * *

Sam's room mate, a studious young man named Ethan, came home late that night, arms filled with books and some Chinese take away from his part time job. He called for Sam, hoping he was hungry.

When he didn't receive an answer, Ethan sighed and put down his books and food and wandered in the direction of Sam's bed.

He pulled back the comforter to wake Sam up and was greeted to the sight of spilled blood still fresh, and the shallow rise of Sam's chest.

After the brief shock left him, Ethan quickly wrapped Sam's bloody wrists in the comforter and called 911.

"C'mon Sam, stay awake," he pleaded.

The only reply he got was a glassy look from Sam, who kept repeating the same word, over and over.

_"Dean. Dean. Dean. Dean."_

* * *

The ambulance was three minutes too late, despite Ethan's best efforts at keeping Sam alive.

Dean and John received the phone call later that night, Ethan quietly offering, "He was barely conscious, but he kept calling for you, Dean. I know it doesn't make it any better, but he was thinking of you."

* * *

Jessica Moore graduated and became a successful lawyer. She lived a long life and fell in love with a man named Lucas.

John finally killed the yellow eyed demon, though the price was his life.

There was no Apocalypse, no broken seals, no angels or opening of a gateway to hell.

Dean never met the blue eyed angel named Castiel. He continued to hunt, sometimes with Bobby, sometimes without.

He never forgave himself for not being there when Sam called.

But, then again, did you really expect that he would?

* * *

So yeah.

There are some great stories on here where Sam feels depressed after he arrives at Stanford and contemplates killing himself, but is stopped when he meets Jessica or Brady or some random student.

Those are great stories and I love reading them.

But sometimes, in real life, there is no one to save the drowning person.

Also, I'm not sure if we ever did find out what Jess was studying at Stanford, so I just went with lawyer.

Since the majority of the story is told in Sam's pov, it's suppose to seem a little choppy, cause he's got a lot going on in his mind and yeah...

Anyways, let me know what you thought.


End file.
